Sweet Dreams
by dear-lovely
Summary: "No one's ever understood me like you, Tom."


This story was written for the Fifth Round of the Seventh Season of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. I'm writing as Beater 1 for the Tutshill Tornados.

Name of the round: **In A Dimension Far, Far Away**

Prompt for Beater 1: (Dream Sequence Dimension) **Write about a dream that continued happening even after the character woke up.**

These are the optional prompts I'm using:

6.[Pairing] **Tom Riddle/Voldemort x Ginny Weasle**y

13.[Painting] **Van Gogh's The Starry Night**

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the world J.K. Rowling has created.

Thanks to my team for betaing!

* * *

Title: **Sweet Dreams**

Words: 2320

Ginny stumbled into her dorm, haggard from the excessive amount of homework given to the first years. She didn't remember if any of her brothers had felt the same way during their first year, but she reckoned that they just hadn't cared about their studies as much as she did—excluding Percy, obviously. And although the fear of the Heir of Slytherin was looming over everyone, almost all her classmates still appeared to be much happier than she felt at the moment, which gave her reason to believe that maybe something was off.

She shrugged off that idea immediately. _That's impossible_, she thought. _There's nothing wrong with me. I'm just tired; that's all._ As soon as her body flopped onto her assigned mattress, she reached for the diary underneath her bed. After briefly looking through its blank pages, she opened it up to a random page and began writing.

_Dear Tom,_

_I've been feeling a bit peaky for the past few weeks, which I suppose is due to the ungodly amount of work the professors are giving us. Yet, I have this feeling that tells me that there might be more to it. I thought I could trust my own instincts, but I've honestly no clue as to how anything else besides my schoolwork would account for my tiredness. Maybe it's because of the stress of this Heir of Slytherin business going on. Or maybe it's all those times I blacked out in the last few months that's slowly wearing me out. At this point, it could honestly be both. _

_If you can't tell, I'm feeling a bit lost. But I just wanted to let it all out, and you're the perfect person to talk to with this kind of stuff. I trust that you won't go around and tell anyone what I've told you, and you always know the right thing to say because no one's ever understood me like you, Tom. I like that at least someone in my life is willing to listen to my thoughts, despite the fact that you're technically a diary. _

_Besides that, you're still the best._

_Love,_

_Ginny_

She set her quill down on top of her bedside table, and when she returned her attention back to the diary, words written in someone else's handwriting were popping up right under her most recent entry.

_Hello Ginny,_

_It's nearly the end of the school year, so I can definitely attest that any feelings of fatigue are normal. Also, everyone is stressed about this Slytherin silliness, so that's not out of the blue either._

_All I can suggest to you now is to rest for a while. Those blackouts can physically affect you if you keep working too hard and don't stop to rest. You shouldn't exert yourself in moments like these, and a good nap always does the trick. Hopefully, you'll feel refreshed and energized when you wake up. Who knows? Maybe you'll need the strength to do something important soon._

_Get some rest. I'll be with you in the morning. _

_Yours,_

_Tom _

Ginny smiled. Out of everyone she knew, only Tom could comfort her the way she needed to be comforted. She wrote back a quick reply.

_Tom,_

_Sleep sounds like a good idea. I'll get to it now. _

_Thanks, Tom._

_Love,_

_Ginny_

He responded just as fast.

_Sweet dreams, Ginny._

_Tom x_

As soon as she tucked the diary away, her consciousness fell into the abyss.

* * *

The first thing Ginny noticed when she regained consciousness was that the ground beneath her felt extremely itchy. The second thing she noticed was that as she breathed in, the air filling her lungs felt overpowering and acerbic instead of cool and refreshing. Ginny opened her eyes and stared up above, marveling at the multi-colored swirls and the brightness of the stars littering the night sky. The scenery looked so beautiful, so surreal, and so… familiar?

She sat straight up, gazing at the sight in front of her. There were rows of short trees near the foot of the hill she was on, standing up straight and close together. Farther down the scene was a cluster of houses with lit-up windows and blackened doors. In the middle of the cluster stood a stark-white church whose roof shot high above the rest of the surrounding buildings and ended in a point. The farthest object was a single shaded cypress tree, which curved up in a similar pattern as the night sky. Behind the tree, there was only darkness.

Unnerved, Ginny slowly turned her head to the left, towards the sky. There, sitting atop the brightest star was a young man whose skin colored closer to an unnatural grey than its seemingly normal white. He looked about Percy's age, but his haircut and clothing style were stuck in the past. There was no denying how handsome the young man was—probably the most beautiful human she had ever seen—yet, there was something about him that chilled Ginny to the core.

With a smile that trod the border between charming and creepy, the young man spoke, "Hello, Ginny. Nice to finally meet you." His tone reminded her of her great-aunt Muriel.

She took a second look at him. "_Tom?_" Ginny breathed incredulously.

He smirked in triumph. "Very good." He hopped off of the star and gracefully landed on top of the hill. "Are you familiar with where we are?" Tom asked as soon as he stood in front of her.

Ginny nodded. "This is Van Gogh's _Starry Night_." He looked over at her curiously. "For my tenth birthday, my dad bought me a book about famous Muggle art and this was my favorite," she explained.

Tom's eyes roamed over the scenery, taking it all in as if this was his first time ever seeing it. "It's...interesting," he commented.

"I think it's better when you see it from the outside, that way you're not afraid of the stars falling on you." Ginny pointed up at the star Tom had just jumped away from.

He turned around to look at where she pointed and sure enough, the star seemed to slip from its intended place and barrelled towards them. Startled, Tom grabbed Ginny's shoulder and stared at her straight in the eyes. "Do you trust me?"

Ginny was momentarily taken aback at the question. Her eyes caught the star still tumbling diagonally towards them, and after a moment's hesitation, she replied, "Yes."

He clutched her hand and pulled her down the steep slope. Together, they slid down the hill at record speed and landed on their feet when they reached the bottom. As they ran away, Tom looked back to the star and stopped in his tracks, jerking Ginny to a halt since his larger hand was clasped tightly around hers.

"_Wha—_" Her annoyance ceased as she saw the murderous star frozen from where it almost hit them near the top of the hill. Then, somehow, the star rolled back to its original position, as if it wasn't rattled at all.

Ginny turned to her companion. "Tom… do you know what's going on here?"

He turned back to her. "Not a clue. This is your imagination." He started walking into the village and so Ginny followed.

"But you're..." she started, "a diary..."

Tom laughed in a mirthless manner. "Now I am, I suppose. But I'm also a person with a soul." He swiveled back towards her and caught the poor girl's perplexed expression. "Say, Ginny. How do you think I was able to communicate with you all this time?"

She shrugged. "I thought you were charmed in the same way as those talking mirrors. We live in a world of magic. There's nothing peculiar about a journal that writes back. On the other hand..." Her eyebrows furrowed together as her mind inched towards a shocking revelation.

"Ginny." He interrupted her train of thought, "Did you mean it, what you said back there? That you trusted me?"

She looked down and thought about the past year. All those times when she had been tormented by her brothers, looked down upon because of her second-hand belongings, and disregarded by her crush, Tom had been there for her. Sweet, understanding, loving Tom. The same Tom who was in front of her right now. Ginny's eyes instantly caught his. "Yes, one hundred percent."

This time, Tom genuinely smiled. He walked right in front of her and caressed her cheek, looking down into her big brown eyes. "I'm glad that you do."

Ginny had never done anything like this before, but she followed her instinct and rose up on her tippy-toes as Tom bent down and kissed her on the lips.

Ginny's heart instantly seared, as if she'd undergone a massive heart attack. She pushed Tom away, but he wasn't there anymore. She searched for the houses that were surrounding them, but they were gone as well. All around her was darkness.

"Tom? Where are you? _What's going on?_" she shrieked, panic-stricken. "_TOM?_"

"I just want to thank you for everything you've done for me this past year. Without your assistance, none of this would've been possible."

She spun around and noticed Tom standing behind her with a malicious look on his face. "Tom, please," Ginny begged, "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know who you are or where I am or what is going on."

He only looked at her with a blank expression while she rambled. "My dear Ginny, you almost figured it out in the painting. Too bad you weren't quick enough." She tilted her head as the tears started streaming down her face. "Oh, all right," he relented. "I'll explain what I mean. I'm not a mere diary by any means. I'm the trapped soul of the first owner of the diary. The diary is the space where I've been imprisoned for a couple of decades now, lying dormant and being as good as dead. But once you got your hands on the diary, you revived me. And because you used the diary so often, I was able to gradually seep into your body and take control whenever I deemed it necessary. Who do you think wrote those messages on the walls? Who do you think opened the Chamber of Secrets? _Me_.

"Now that I have full control over your soul, all thanks to that pity kiss, I can finally do what I've been planning to do for months. I have to thank you, really. If it wasn't for you, nobody at Hogwarts would've been petrified, the basilisk would've slumbered down in the Chamber for another century or two, and Harry Potter wouldn't have had to die tonight."

Ginny gasped. "_NO!_" she shouted as she charged forward. Right before she collided with him, he disappeared. All that she caught was air.

"Tsk tsk, Ginny. You should know by now that we're currently in your mind. The rules of physics don't apply here. Anyways, that's the gist of what's going on. Now I'm going to need for you to write another message before I can properly dispose of your body and lure Harry Potter to his death. Good day."

"_NOT OVER MY—_" Ginny screeched before the abyss captured her.

* * *

Ginny awoke, gasping for air. She noticed the sweat dripping off from all orifices of her body and her heart beating profusely. In an instant, she grabbed the diary from under the bed and rapidly scrawled inside.

_Tom,_

_I've no clue if whatever happened in my dream was real or not. I don't know if you're the you that I saw or if you told the truth about the Chamber. All I know is that I'm going mad and you're the reason I'm feeling this way._

_So this is me saying goodbye and good riddance._

_Ginny_

Right as she was about to shut the diary, he scribbled on the next page.

_Silly Ginny, you should go to sleep._

"_What_?" She questioned out loud. Before she knew it, her body collapsed on the floor and she lost control to a more powerful force than herself.

* * *

Ginny was trapped in her own mind. She saw Ron and Harry at breakfast and pushed against Tom's interference to alert them about the Chamber and Tom's plans. Right as she was about to confess everything, Percy interrupted her, which gave Tom the chance to take over completely.

After that, she only saw flashes. There was blood on her fingers. She hissed and spluttered words she didn't recognize. Everything felt wet and sticky.

But mostly there was only darkness.

And then all of a sudden, she heard a familiar voice.

"Ginny—don't be dead—please don't be dead..."

_Harry?_ she attempted to call out. _Are you here? Please don't be in danger..._

She tried her hardest to fight off the pure exhaustion that washed over her. She _needed_ to be awake for this.

Tom's voice filled the air while Harry pleaded with him to help her, but Tom didn't do anything. If Ginny was fully awake, she knew she'd be full-on sobbing at this point. Tom, she realized now, was a despicable human being, yet it didn't stop her from holding onto that last hope that somehow, Tom still cared about her. It was futile to wish for at this point, but she knew that she'd given him a piece of her and hoped that it meant something to him. Something more than power and greed.

Suddenly, Tom's once-charming voice sliced through her awareness. "Voldemort is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter..."

_Oh no_, Ginny thought. _This cannot be happening. Tom is Voldemort! Tom, my confidante, is a mass murderer. I _kissed _Voldemort. Merlin, when will this nightmare end?_

Her shock sent her careening back into the abyss until Tom vanished.

Slowly, she began to regain consciousness. The first thing she registered was a soft whisper in her ear.

_I love you_, she heard faintly as the diary hissed.


End file.
